Of Trolls and Lost Boots
by So-Sings-Nightingales
Summary: The Trolls have been turned to stone and the Company is free from their bonds. Brothers reconnect and frazzled nerves are calmed. However, a pair of boots seem to be missing...


**This was written as a prompt from ****_Bluestarshine_**** who wanted to see a Balin and Dwalin moment after the Troll scene. Well, I think I might have kinda strayed from the prompt, but I hope it is enjoyable none of the less! :)**

**Disclaimer:** The book, The Hobbit, belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, and by no means do I own the movie. I do not own these characters and I am not making a profit from this story. I am just taking these characters out for a walk in the park and I promise to return them in one piece.

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Being cooked alive, now I must say that is a first. And I cannot say that I am enjoying it. It is a little too cozy and warm for my liking—being tied to a rotisserie like a slaughtered animal, fit like a puzzle between my comrades and all. If only I had one of my axes, I would show these Trolls what_ I_ think about being treated like dead meat! Being turned round and round, the only way I know which way is up is by the heat of the fire and the cold of the night, the two extremes causing me to shiver and sweat simultaneously. Not to mention that someone's feet nearby _reek_! The stench is enough to make me want to pass out!

Now how did we get into this predicament? Ah yes, our fearless Burglar thought he could take on three Trolls all alone. Yet I have a feeling that Fíli and Kíli have something to do with this—it smells of their doing. I can deal with those two later, once we get out of this mess. Thorin will think of something to free us. At least he, and my brother, has been spared from being cooked alive. At least if rescue does not come before I am "well done" then at least my brother will survive.

Ah, there is the voice of our resident Burglar, trying to reason with these dim-wits, an impossible task if you ask me, but whoever asks my opinion? We would not be here if they had. Oh Bilbo, you had better quit while you are ahead! You just might make things worse—if that is even possible. Things look quite bleak as they are.

Wait, what was that? Curse the Troll spinning me! I could have sworn I was a blur of gray. Could it have been?… no, not Gandalf!

_"The dawn will take you all!"_

It is! And about time… it is absolutely stifling, someone's feet smell, and another's foot is in my back! To make matters worse we have stopped turning. Figures I am stranded face first into the flames! "Someone let us down!"

I am still unclear on exactly how the Company managed it, but I am _finally_ on solid ground! Although I would never admit it, but I still feel a bit disoriented, which I cover by sitting on a rock under pretense of straightening out my clothing which are a crumpled mess. However I can never fool my brother.

"Well, brother, you ready to be eaten yet? But I must agree with Bilbo… it would take a _whole lot_ of seasonings to make you edible."

"Very funny, Balin." He is shaken, I can see it in his eyes, but from the way Balin is looking at me I am displaying the same emotions.

After being in such close proximity to the fire for so long, the slight breeze is all it takes to make me shiver, so I quickly pull on my tunic and furs before Balin begins to fret even more.

"For a while there I thought you would truly be cooked alive." I look up from fastening my belt, all show of humor and denial has vanished from Balin's eyes.

"You were in as much danger as I, for those Trolls could have eaten you raw, as Bombur almost found out."

"I would have gladly accepted that fate if you would be spared."

"Do not talk like that, Balin!" I cut in forcefully, but when have I ever not been straightforward? "It did not come to that, and we have already proven in the past that we would give our lives for the other. But if it should ever come down to one of us living or dying, do you think that_ I_ would want to watch you die? No, you are my kin, my only brother, so you had better stick around a while longer you old Dwarf, for who would keep me in line like you do? I am not a tame animal."

Balin chuckled. "You are nothing without me!"

I grunt in annoyance but I allow a smile to tug at my lips, which I quickly hide as I turn my face to the ground. "Have you seen my boots, older brother?"

"No, I cannot say I have."

"So much for being nothing without you… you are useless!"

Balin laughs again, "Let me go look through the pile of clothing and packs and I will see if they are there."

Crossing my arms across my chest I allow a scowl to grace my face.

With an affectionate pat on my shoulder, Balin turns in search of my lost boots. Where could they have gone off to? Unless…

Scowl still in place, I scrutinize the Company scattered about the clearing. One Dwarf in particular catches my eye, for he is staring right at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. My eyes travel down… he would not _dare_… no, it cannot be. He would not put his stinking feet into… no. That grin, oh that is just _cruel_!

"BOFUR! GET YOUR ROTTEN FEET OUT OF MY BOOTS!" In an instant I am lunging at the offending Dwarf. Bofur turns heel to run, but the boots are way too large for the shorter Dwarf, so he ends up tripping as I tackle him the rest of the way to the ground. "BALIN! I FOUND MY BOOTS!" I holler louder than necessary. "Now help me get them before they permanently smell!"

But I gain no aid from my brother, for he along with the rest of the Company are doubled over in laughter. I cannot help the grin that replaces the scowl. My brother is safe—as is everyone else— the Trolls are stone, Gandalf has returned, and I have my boots... mostly.

Pinning the goofy Dwarf to the ground I lean close to his ear. "If my boots so much as have a _hint_ of your foul feet's stench, you will be washing them in the next stream we find until they _look_ and _smell_ like new."

Bofur's grin just widens. "Why, Dwalin? It is an improvement from how they smelled before!"

Staring into his eyes with my most menacing glower I slowly release him before yanking my boots free, repulsed at the odor that emanates from the fur lining. Oh, there will be retribution…

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**Author's Note****: Don't forget to review- I'd love to hear your thoughts! **


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